The life of Finnegan Kirkland, Dublin, Ireland
by Connor O'Connell
Summary: This is my story, as sad as it is. Watch as I meet people along the way who change my life. Finnegan Kirkland, the Capital of Ireland.
1. Jack Kirkland

This story begins in the winter of 1831. It's not a clamourus story, it's not a happy story, it's real life, and It's not all fun and games, or candy and puppies. It's hard work, and it's tough, it's dark and it's sad.  
The month was November, the day I can't remember. All I remember was it was cold, and my people were dying. The plague had been going though the streets Dublin for a while now, and there was nothing I could do to save them. I was lucky I never died myself, but as a land my body was able to withstand more than a human, though I came close once, and it was terrifying.  
My people had been asking for more leway for a long while, as things were advancing, and things were growing, I was trying to keep hold of what I had, trying not to let it get out hand, and I was losing my grasp at an alarming rate, and there was nothing I could do to keep hold. There was nothing I could do...nothing...  
I fed who I could...housed who I could...but they all died, and it broke my heart. I used to be a happy capital...naturally happy...now I had to struggle to keep a smile on my face, and eventually I got too good at it. If I wasn't depressed in my house watching more and more people die, I was pretending to be happy, and that hurt me as well, because it wasn't ME.  
I had people walk up to me, and tell me this was all my fault. People walk up to me and beg for help, and I had to shake my head and say there was nothing I could do...I'm sorry. It broke me. I finally locked my doors, closed the shutters and shut the world out...

Christmas with the family came and went... they all wondered why I was so gloomy, they were all going though the same thing but they were enjoying the festivities. They were sad yes, but they were used to it. I hated seeing my people diying, regardless if it was normal for a human to die when they got sick. Back then it was all too normal, because there were no antibiotics, no vaccines, no nothing.

When Febuary came along I finally dragged my sorry butt outside. The snow covered ground was cold, but it was home...And it was dark...  
the ground was too frozen to bury the dead, so they were done what was common for back in the times when people died in large quantities. They were thrown in ditches to wait for the thaw that wouldn't be for another month or two. I walked the streets and got a lot of dark looks. I had been gone for four months, so maybe that was what was wrong. Or they still hated me. Or both. Sadly both was the most likely reason.  
Walking around I saw the sadness in the eyes of the humans...The homeless children filling the orphanage home that was already too full, most were hiding, starving, most gave me the same evil looks the adults gave me, but one...One kid.  
The boy was hiding behind a wall at the edge of Dublin, and when I saw him he didn't give me an evil look...he gave me a look of fear, loneliness...a look I bet I had, and sadness...  
"Dia Duit..." I said not approaching him. A simple hello, nothing threatning.  
"Dia Duit..." He said in return. He was a small boy, maybe four or five, so young, and starving. You could tell he was thin just by his thin face that people didn't normally have. He had black hair and green eyes with freckles, and if I could see him smile, he'd look so happy...  
"You hungry?" I asked crouching down near him, forcing a sad smile on my face. The boy nodded so I held out my hand.  
"Then let's go find you something to eat, aye?" He took my hand and I picked him up. He was wet and cold. He'll stay with me till he's strong, then I'll find him a home, I told myself. But the boy clung to me as if I were his last chance for survival, and I was.  
"What's your name?" I asked as I walked home though the cold streets. He replied with Jack, he didn't remember his last name, but he said he'd lost his family to the plauge and that he was all alone. "You won't be alone anymore." I promised him, not knowing how true those words would be.

Once back at the house I set him down infront of the fire, took off his wet dirty clothes and gave him a blanket.  
"I'll go put some tea on the stove, and maybe some stew?" Jack nodded clinging to the blanket scooting closer to the fire for warmth. I turned to the kitchen and put a tea kettle on the woodstove to heat up, then dished up a bowl of stew and carried it back to the main room handing it to him. It didn't last long, that's all I could say.  
"Want some more?" I asked. He nodded. So I went back to get more and brought back some tea with me. I sat down in the nearby chair watching him till he finished and stood. "Hmm?"  
He walked over to me and crawled into my lap with a yawn. I couldn't help but wrap my arms around him holding him close, maybe even a little protectively. "I'm alone..." he said again.  
"I am too, Jack...I'm Finnegan by the way, but you can call me Finn..." I smiled a little bit at him as he yawned again falling asleep.  
"Finn...We'll keep each other company?" He said looking up with hopeful eyes. I nodded regardless of what I'd told myself before.  
"Yeah, we'll keep each other company. Forever." He nuzzled against me a small smile on his face and fell asleep. I wrapped the blanket around him tighter holding him close just sitting there quietly singing a small song I'd heard mothers singing to their kids before. He slept soundly. Warm, fed, comfortable, safe. And I was his protector.

Day's passed. Months passed, and he grew used to being at my house. He enjoyed exploring, and once in a while he'd give me a heart attack and dissapear for a couple hours and I'll find him in some random tree outside. The more I was around Jack the more accustomed I'd come to taking care of the boy I'd found in the cold.  
"Finn!" Jack called one day around mid April. The snow had melted in the valley, though it still stuck in the mountains. The birds were finally out again, more active, the flowers were blooming. Jack has been dissapearing for a while, though to where I didn't know, but I got over it because he'd always come home.  
"Yes Jack?" I said coming into the main room from my office. My people were still at it, and it was getting way too stressful...  
"I made a fort! Come see!" I chuckled and followed. What else could I do? Tell the kid no and go back to work? He'd become like a son to me, I couldn't do that...  
"I'm coming, Jack, I'm coming." The fort he showed me was a few branches pressed up against a tree. Nothing special, but he was very proud of himself.  
"I made it for when I'm bigger! I'll live here!" He was very dead set on that. The innocece of youth. It was nice to have someone who didn't give me a death glare whenever they saw me.  
"It's a little small don't you think, Jack?" I asked with another chuckle. I looked inside and there was barely enough room for him to sit down in at five years old, let alone when he was grown up with a family.  
"I'll expand it! It'll have bedrooms, and a kitchen, and a fire place room and everything!" He hugged my leg excitedly. "I can't wait to grow up. Then I can help you with your job!" Then it hit me...He was human, I was a land. He'd die and I'd live...and that thought broke my heart. "Papa?" He looked up at me when I'd taken a deep breath to try and keep calm.  
I blinked down at him. He'd never called me Papa before... "Papa?" I asked curiously with a small smile upon my face.  
"Well...you take care of me...and you love me...that's what Papa's do! And you play with me! You're my papa!" He hugged my neck with a giggle.  
I smiled at him and held him close. "And you're like a son to me, Jack. You know that?" I started to carry him home.  
"Yes, I know! I love you, Papa!" He smiled up at me.  
"I love you too, Jack!" I ruffled his hair with a smile and kissed his forehead. "Now. How about we wash up and have some lunch?" He practically jumped from my arms and ran home, myself in close pursuit.


	2. Bloody Doctors

I taught Jack at home. He grew up quick, but he was always a child at heart. Always brought home random birds that fell from the nest, or other little critters.

Eventually he got bit on the finger. We kept the wound clean but it still got infected. Doctors back then consisted of herbal remedies that sometimes didn't work, and there wasn't much they could do for a wound like he had.

"I don't want to!" Jack cried. He was scared and it broke my heart.

"Jack...if you don't you'll die...do you want to die?" I said holding him close. We hadn't gone to the doctor yet, but I knew he would be hurt, and he'd be in pain, and he'd be scared. I was scared for him. The odds of this curing the problem were very slim, but it was his only chance left.

"Please Papa...don't make me...It'll hurt!" I sighed.

"Jack...please don't make this harder for the both of us than it already is...I know it'll hurt, but it's the only thing we can do now...I'll be right there I promise, and when we're done we'll come home and we'll sit in front of the fire and have tea. Alright?" Finally he nodded, but he was still crying with fear. I continued holding him close trying not to seem to worried about it.

Back then doctors were kinda heartless...They didn't have much room for emotion with the work they did. Constant blood, pain, death, illness, none of it was good...I brought my own knife. I'd seen the hospital equipment. They hardly ever cleaned it or their equipment. Especially their knives...I had thrown one of mine in the wood stove oven. The heat would clean it...I hid it in a bag from Jack. I hated doing this to him...

"Another infection." The doctor said flatly. He seemed to have a little more emotion for the fact that it was a child.

"Yeah..." I said sadly holding onto Jack tight. He was all teared out, but he still hiccuped into my shoulder and cried more when the doctor touched his finger. "Jack it's okay...!"

"It h-hurts!" He hiccuped. My heart was breaking...I hated seeing Jack like this.

"I know Jack...I know it hurts..." I kissed the top of his head trying to force back tears. I wish there was some way to keep from putting him in pain, but there wasn't.

The doctor reached into his drawer and pulled out a rusted knife. Jack had his head in my shoulder and I sat there holding it there as I put the rag with the knife down on it and pointed to it. I wasn't going to say anything. Not with Jack so terrified as it stood. The doctor gave me a stick and I kissed Jack's forehead as I put it in his mouth to bite on and held him tight as the doctor took hold of his hand and positioned the knife over his finger, the others curled into his fist like I told him to keep them.

"I-I'm scared..." Jack hiccuped between the stickclinging to me tight with his other hand. I rubbed his back pressing my face against his head squeezing my eyes shut as the knife came down on Jack's finger and he cried out in pain. "I'm so sorry, Jack...I'm so so sorry..." I kept telling him. I couldn't tell him it'd be okay, because neither of us knew that, and the situation didn't overly call for it.

The doctor wrapped a bandage over it. It still bled. I'd have to take care of it. I swore sometimes I was a better doctor sometimes...Maybe that was a land thing? Having more eperiance and knowledge of things like this? I didn't know. I just knew as soon as I got home he'd have some alcohol dumped on the finger and clean bandage put on it...hopefully it'd be done bleeding by then. I felt so bad.

We walked out of the doctors house not long after my knife in the rag and I carried Jack home who was still hiccuping with tears but calming down a little bit now that it was over. "I'm sorry, Jack..." I told him for like the millionth time.

"I know papa..." he hugged me tight as we walked into the house again and lit a lantern in the kitchen and sat him on the table.

"I'm going to clean it up then put a new clean bandage on it." I kissed his forehead again as I went to get the stuff while he looked as his hand hiccuping.

I came back with a bottle of whisky and gave him a drink small sip. It was known as a pain killer back then. This doctor didn't seem to have any. And if he did he didn't give Jack some which kinda pissed me off. He took the drink and shudderd making a face. I waited a little bit before cleaning the hand and frowning at the stub that used to be his finger. I hated this. I took some sewing thread and a needle and closed the wound up as best I could him not complaining much just kinda looking around or at his hand. I poured a little bit more on his finger then bandaged it with a freshly boiled rag from before then took him upstairs to his room and layed down in bed with him cuddling.

"Is brea liom tu, papa." Jack said with a yawn not in any pain anymore.

"Is brea liom tu, too Jack." I smiled at him rubbing his back dozing off with him till we both fell asleep.

After the two of us awoke, I picked up Jack and carried him back downstairs by lantern light with the intention to clean the wound again. He had to do this. The infected part of his finger was gone, but the threat still posed.

After having his finger chopped off, Jack found the cleaning to be a piece of cake. He didn't cry, just winced. There was no amount to how many times I could apologize to the boy for what he'd had to have done. I could have done it himself but...I just couldn't. Who could do that to their son? Certainly not me. I'd done it to a couple random passers, but never to anyone I'd personally known.

Once the wound was cleaned, I let Jack down and searched the cabnets for food we could make quickly. By the look of the sky outside it was beginning to be daylight, so I figured breakfast would be in order so me and Jack went out to see if there were eggs in the chicken cope and sure enough there were.

"What are we having for breakfast papa?" Jack asked, looking up at me when I pulled out five eggs.  
"The usual probably. Eggs with bread and potatos." I told him, handing him a couple. Times were harder back then with the risk of drinking the water because of what went into the streams. It was usually whiskey or beer we drank, because of the disseases we could get by drinking the water. Or milk, but I didn't exactly have a milk cow at the time, though I'd thought about investing in one.

Maybe that's what we could do today, I thought to myself. He knew of a nearby farmer who had one up for grabs. Knowing the man he would take a few bottles of whiskey over the milk the cow offered any day. And with the cow we could make butter and other things that we'd normally not have.

Back in the house, breakfast on the stove, I told Jack of our adventure today. He loved animals, so naturally he was thrilled. Once before he'd asked if we could get a dog, and the thought had crossed my mind. A canine companion wouldn't be such a bad Idea. Someone to watch after Jack as he went on his own little adventures in the afternoons, but we just never seemed to have the time to look for one, and there weren't many that showed up on anyones doorstep, because back then a dog had a job, and they were valued. When they got useless they were usually turned to dinner for meat if the family who owned them was poor enough.

With full bellies we left the house, a cart with whiskey in hand, we started on our way to farmer O'Ryan's place to hopefully aquire a couple milk cows. Or one. I'd have been happy with one, honestly I would have.  
"Papa papa look!" Jack said excitedly, looking at a sign that read "puppies" The first thing that came to my mind was this little rat dog that wouldn't do me any good. At least something like today's equivilent of a border collie or something to keep the preditors away, but also keep Jack company.  
"I don't know..." I told him quietly, really suspicious of the senario.  
"Can we at least go see them?" He asked, looking up at me with hope. I couldn't resist.  
"Alright, we'll look." I told him, pulling the cart into the yard, looking around to make sure no one was around before knocking on the door.

A young man about 26 opened the door. He looked like a serious person that had no use for random passers, but apparently he had puppies he wanted to get rid of, because I did infact hear play growls from another room.

"'Ello." I told him. "Me and my son were passing and we wanted to take a look at your pups." I tried t sound as calm and reasonable as possible, the man didn't seem to interested, but he let us in.  
The house smelled like old potato's and mold. His wife was in the kitchen making breakfast, and it surprised me out late some people awoke in the day.  
The pups were nestled in a wooden box in the corner of the room, the mother no where to be seen, but one look at the pups and I knew that those weren't some rat dog that would have no use.  
"Irish Wolfhounds." I said quietly, looking at the pups. They were usually dogs of royalty, but there they were. There was no mistaking the grey hair and hound faces.

"Aye. Top bred pups." The mans accent was almost as thick as my own, but mine was still older. "I'm lookin' for 5 pounds each." Five pounds sounded a bit cheep, but I picked up a female who was sound asleep in the corner.

When she woke she wagged her little tail and licked my nose as I held her up to take a look. The females tended to be more motherly and protective, which was what I was looking for.  
"I've got three pounds and two bottles of whiskey." I told the man, handing Jack the pup who was instantly thrilled. I couldn't pass up this chance.

The man looked at me for a moment, scratching his red beard. "You got yerself a deal lad." We shook hands and I gave him two pounds of what I had, which was more than that I assure you, and walked out, bringing back in three bottles of the whiskey. We shook hands and left with the female, who was still licking Jack's face, who in return, was a giggling mess.

Once at farmer O'Ryan's, we entered the gates, the pup now lumbering along behind me and Jack happy as could be and was immediately greeted by his wife, thankfully.

"Oh hello, Finnigan, what do I owe the pleasure?" Mrs. O'Ryan asked me kindly. I always did like his wife, my guess was the husband was out cold somewhere.  
"I'm here to purchase a cow, or maybe two, if possible. Milk cows of course, young if possible, or one of each sex." I said with a smile, naturally she would understand, especially after seeing young Jack playing with the pup in the grass.

"Aye, we have those. A young male and female that we can't feed anymore, hard times, you know." She was a kind lady, and I enjoyed her company. "Who's this young lad?" She asked, smiling over at Jack. It had been a long while since we'd last visited.

"That's my son Jack. I found him a couple years ago back in Dublin. The pup's new, just picked her up today from Mr. Kelly." She nodded approval and smiled.

"Well. This way, I'll get ye yer cows. The Mister is passed out of course, which is probably a good thing. Ye know how he feels about dogs. I swear Finnigan, that mans more stubborn than anyone I've ever met, not realizing how a dog would help us. But what can ye do?" She asked, leading me towards the field, Jack quickly in pursuit pup in hand.

"Ye can't do anythin' unfortunately, Mrs. O'Ryan." I said, looking over the fence at the small herd as she walked in with a couple ropes, caught them with no problem and lead two, a male and female, out. I reached into my pocket for a couple dozen pounds. I wasn't a money spender, I tried to live off of what I grew, but once in a while that only went so far.

"What do you think Jack? Look healthy enough to ye?" I asked him, watching him come over and nod.

"Aye!" He said happily, smiling up at Mrs. O'Ryan as she scratched behind the pup's head and patted his own.  
"Well, why don't ye two come in and have something to eat, it may be a long trip back." She said with a kind smile.

"No thanks Mrs. O'Ryan, we really will be okay. But thank ye so much for the offer, I've also got some whiskey to make it while to that husband of yours. Maybe he'll drink himself to the point of not remembering." I told her, she laughed and nodded, taking a few bottles of the whiskey.

We waved and told each other to visit sometime and parted ways once more, two cows and a dog in tow. The feed for the cows wouldn't be a problem. They could plant a field and grow the feed themselves if they started now. Might have to buy some, but it was less likely to be much. The dog would be able to eat pretty much what ever.

"So what are ye going to name her, Jack?" I asked him as we started down the road and got out of view of the farm.  
"Uhm...I don't know...Lupa?" He asked. We had talked about Wolves before, and Lupa was latin for wolf. She wolf actually, so it fit better, being as she was female.  
"Lupa sounds like a lovely name, Jack." I told him with a smile, leading the cows as he pulled the cart, the newly named pup riding happily.

I looked down at Jack with a smile, happy he was feeling better and back to his old self. The wound was scabbing over by this time, and would heal in due time, and hopefully, the infection would not return.


End file.
